Harry Potter: New Game Plus
by brenco
Summary: Harry Potter finished his seventh year at Hogwarts, defeated Voldemort, and got the Good Ending. So why was he pulled back to do it all over again? And why is everything so different this time around?
1. Title Screen

A still image: Platform Nine and three-quarters. An adult Harry and Ginny are watching the Hogwarts Express pull out of the station. Harry's hand is raised in farewell to his children onboard the train. Text quickly superimposes itself upon the image, as if typed by some unseen hand.

* * *

"He'll be alright, " murmured Ginny.  
As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absent-mindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.  
"I know he will. "  
The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

* * *

The text scrolls past an invisible line and disappears. The image slowly fades to black.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is anybody there?"

...

Harry Potter was floating in a pitch-black void.

Harry was bewildered. Just moments ago, he had defeated Voldemort and decided to forsake the power of the Elder Wand. Immediately afterwards, he had lost all awareness of his physical body, experienced a bizarre subtitled slideshow of his future, then was dropped back into a physical body floating in a vast expanse of non-illuminated nothingness.

Harry briefly wondered if he had died. Then he remembered that he had died before. He compared the two experiences and decided that, while similar to each other, they weren't quite the same.

Text appeared in front of Harry, and he could only stare in confusion.

_Congratulations! You have completed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!_

_You have now unlocked New Game Plus mode!  
__You can now try your hand at new quests, gaining bonuses to your character each time you complete the game!  
__Each year has 8 unique quests to uncover, so replay them all for hours of entertainment!_

Whatever this was, it certainly wasn't the afterlife.

Harry reached out to touch the text. Either the text was too far away to touch or it was immaterial, because Harry's hand encountered no resistance.

Harry dropped his hand and said out loud "um, okay."

The text disappeared, and more text immediately took its place.

_-HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY-_

_New Game  
__New Game Plus  
__Options  
__Load Game_

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Harry asked.

Harry said nothing, waiting for a response that never came.

"Where am I?" he yelled. "What's going on? Why am I here?"

No response.

"Hmph. Okay, I can figure this out." Harry thought about his situation for a minute. "The text said something about 'new game'-"

Immediately a flat square appeared, blocking out parts of the existing text. Inside the square was written:

_Would you like to start a new game?_

"Ah! Oh, um, no. Thank you, but no."

The box disappeared, and the rest of the menu text reappeared.

"Okay, so I just need to say the option I want-"

Another square appeared.

_OPTIONS_

_Subtitles: Off  
__In-game hints: Disabled  
__Combat Tutorials: Disabled  
__Camera view: First-person  
__Team Battle: Automatic_

"Huh. I wonder what these are. 'subtitles'-"

The text now read "Subtitles: On". Additionally, below the box was text of a different font.  
_Harry Potter: "Huh. I wonder what these are. 'subtitles'-"_

"Okay, that's too weird."  
_Harry: Okay, that's too weird._

"Yeah, I'm going to turn these off. Whatever they are."  
_Harry: Yeah, I'm going to turn these off. Whatever they are._

Harry did so. He then went down the list, seeing what else was there.

"In-game Hints? Um, I guess that sounds useful. What sort of hints are-"  
_Enabled_

"... well that doesn't tell me anything. Okay, what about Combat Tutorials? Does that mean somebody teaching me to fight, or me teaching somebody else to fight?" Nobody responded, and Harry thought about it. "Either way, I guess it couldn't hurt. Turn that on."  
_Enabled._

"Camera View. What does that even-"  
_Third-Person_

Harry's point of view shifted to a point behind and to the left of him. Harry was seeing the back of his own body as if from an outsider's perspective.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!" he yelled, waving his hands madly in the air while watching himself flail about. "NEVER MIND, NEVER MIND!"

Harry's point of view resumed its more normal location. It took a minute for Harry's heart to stop racing and his breathing to resume a more normal pace.

"Okay," he finally said once he had calmed down. "I think that's enough fiddling around with options."

The square obligingly disappeared, and the main menu took its place.

_New Game  
__New Game Plus  
__Options  
__Load Game_

"Hmmmm," Harry said. "Load Game."

_-LOAD GAME-_

_Empty Slot  
__Empty Slot  
__Empty Slot  
__Empty Slot  
__Empty Slot  
__-cont'd-_

Harry had no idea what this meant. "Load game?" he tried. "Empty Slot?"

Nothing happened.

"Fine, go back."

_New Game  
__New Game Plus  
__Options  
__Load Game_

"Well, I guess there's nothing left but to try New Game Plus."

_Would you like to load a New Game Plus file?_

"Yes."

_Please choose your skills bonus._

_Transfiguration  
__Charms  
__Herbology  
__Defense against the Dark Arts  
__Potions_

Harry didn't know what form the bonus took, but if it somehow improved his performance in the relevant class, there was really only one choice. Directly or indirectly, Voldemort attacked Harry almost every year. If Harry wanted to survive, he had to get good at defending himself against Voldemort's dark magics.

"Defense against the dark arts."

_+5 to DADA._

_Please choose your attributes bonus._

_Relationships [4]  
__Leadership [6]  
__Brains [2]  
__Persuasion [1]_

The attributes seemed a little odd to Harry. What was the difference between "relationships" and "persuasion"? For that matter, what did "leadership" do?

"Still," he said to himself, "I am tired of nobody believing me. Better make it Persuasion."

_+1 to Persuasion._

"Wait," he asked, as everything faded to black, "does that mean I only have a 2 in brains?"

Harry wasn't sure what that meant, but he felt rather insulted.


	2. Exploring Diagon Alley

A series of still images with narration below them:

_The Dark Mark, green and hovering in the night sky._  
"Many years ago the most evil and powerful dark wizard in history gathered an army of followers. Calling themselves Death Eaters, they freely used the Unforgivable Curses and killed mercilessly and indiscriminately."

_Several Death Eaters firing curses at an offscreen enemy._  
"Under Lord Voldemort's banner they began a campaign of terror and violence never before seen in Britain."

_A bright green light shining from the windows of a house._  
"Then, one night, Voldemort attempted to kill the Potter family. Harry's parents died protecting Harry. Because of that sacrifice Voldemort was destroyed, his dark power broken."

_Harry, wrapped in a blanket inside a basket on a doorstep. Harry is sleeping, and a red lightning-shaped scar is visible on his forehead._  
"With his parents dead, Harry was left with his relatives the Dursleys."

_An eleven-year old Harry jumping to catch one of the many envelopes that fill the air. Uncle Vernon is in the background, turning an alarming shade of red._  
"Then one day Harry received a letter to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

_Hagrid tapping the stones to Diagon Alley with his umbrella._  
"Hagrid, the Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts, took young Harry Potter to Diagon Alley to purchase a most unusual list of school supplies..."

The image fades to black.

Harry Potter came back to himself with a jolt. He was standing at the head of a long road, a wall at his back. People came and went, buying what they needed to from the stores lining the road. Some buildings were so crooked that they had to have been built with magic just to stay upright.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. "Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible", said a sign hanging over them.

Harry stared in disbelief. He recognized this area. He was in Diagon Alley, but it was a Diagon Alley untouched by war. Gone was the oppressive silence, the nervous glances as people quickly darted from shop to shop. In its place was a livelihood that Harry hadn't seen for a long time. He stood there for a moment, just drawing everything in.

Hagrid placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, causing Harry to jump.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' a cauldron," he said, misunderstanding Harry's stares, "but you've gotta get yer money first."

Harry gaped. The last time he had seen Hagrid was after the Battle at Hogwarts. Now here Hagrid was, standing behind Harry and acting like he hadn't a care in the world.

Harry felt overwhelmed; it was as if he was being being pulled down a whitewater river, struggling just to stay above water.

"Hagrid," Harry said, "What is going on?"

"What do yeh mean?" Hagrid asked.

"What do I mean?" Harry laughed. "Twenty minutes ago, I was eighteen years old. I had just defeated Lord Voldemort in a one-on-one battle, and then everything goes... weird. I'm pulled into a nothingness that tells me that I need to start a new game, and then it narrates my life for me, and then I'm here! Again! Hagrid, this is not the first time I've been to Diagon Alley!"

Hagrid considered this.

"Well, it sounds like you had a bad dream," he said. "Why, one time I dreamt that I was flyin-"

"It wasn't a dream!" Harry yelled. "Look, I'll prove it. Snape is the potions master. He's hated me because of my father for years. Dumbledore is the headmaster, but he died in my sixth year at Hogwarts. Quirrell is the Defense against the Dark Arts instructor, but he won't make it past the end of the year because of the curse Riddle put on the position."

A thought struck Harry. "Say, where IS Quirrel, anyways? I need to give him a big hug as soon as I can..."

Hagrid laughed. "Sorry Harry, but you're mistaken about most of that. Dumbledore isn't the Headmaster, he's the History of Magic teacher. The headmaster is Professor Forsett. The Defense teacher this year is a woman named Nerissa Stoat, and I've never heard of anybody named Quirrell before."

Harry's jaw dropped open. He couldn't even begin to figure out what was going on. He had thought himself sent backwards in time somehow (but that still didn't explain the floating sensation or the mysterious text boxes), but this little revelation blew all of his rough ideas out of the water.

"Now," Hagrid continued, "The first place you'll need to go is Gringotts Bank. They'll have your money waiting for you."

Harry started to object, thought better of it, and started walking towards Gringotts. Harry still didn't understand what was going on, but the walk down Diagon Alley helped him gather his thoughts. He idly wondered if occlumency would have helped him gather his thoughts more efficiently. He had never been able to learn occlumency, but he still wondered.

_Maybe that's why I couldn't learn it_, Harry thought. _My Brains score was too low._

After passing several stores, a whim caught him. He turned and walked into the nearest store, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

There were several broomsticks hovering in front of the window, slowly flying this way and that, gently rebounding at the limit of their tethers. Several people browsed inside the shop, and a bored cashier was standing behind the counter.

Harry approached the counter. "Excuse me,-" he said.

Harry immediately experienced a familiar floating sensation as a large blue screen appeared in front of him. Everything else in the room darkened and people froze mid-stride.

The following appeared on the screen in white text:

Quidditch Through the Ages 15 G  
Bristle Polish 10 G  
Wood Varnish 20 G  
Broomstick Servicing Kit 50 G  
Shooting Star -  
Comet 260 100 G  
Comet 290 250 G  
Cleansweep Seven 200 G  
Cleansweep Eleven 400 G  
Nimbus 2000 500 G  
Nimbus 2001 750 G  
Firebolt 2500 G

Cancel

Harry stared at the screen. As nerve-wracking as it was to have your entire reality pulled out from underneath you, at least Harry was getting used to the interface.

"Uh, Nimbus 2000," he said.

Harry wasn't expecting what happened next. A three-dimensional depiction of a Nimbus 2000 quickly expanded from nothing in front of him. Fully expanded, it rotated in front of him.

At the bottom of the floating model was the text "The Nimbus 2000 costs 500 Gold. Would you like to buy it?"

"Um, no."

The model quickly shrunk to nothing, leaving just the blue menu in front of him. Harry turned to go, before realizing he couldn't actually move while the menu was in front of him.

"Cancel."

The screen disappeared, leaving Harry Potter standing in Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Everything was exactly as it had been before. The patrons were still browsing and the bored cashier was still standing at the counter.

Harry turned and left as quickly as he could.


	3. NPCs at Gringotts

Continuing his walk down the street, Harry saw the familiar white facade of Gringotts Bank. He walked inside. Inside the foyer were two long rows of desks, with a goblin working at most of them. The desks were set up so that the goblins stood much higher behind them than the customers did in front of them, allowing the goblins to look down on every one of their wizard clients.  
Harry suspected the effect was intentional.

Harry walked towards the nearest desk and cleared his throat expectantly.

Without looking up from his work, the goblin said in a bored tone "You'll be wanting withdrawals. Go see Griphook," and gestured to a desk at the back of the foyer, just beyond the parallel rows of desks.

Harry stepped away from the desk and walked toward Griphook. Halfway through the desks he decided to turn to his other side and ask for a second opinion. "Excuse me," he said to the goblin at the nearest desk.

Without even looking up, this goblin said exactly the same thing as the previous goblin had, in exactly the same manner. "You'll be wanting withdrawals. Go see Griphook." Just like the previous one had, he gestured to the front of the foyer.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of this. "Um, that's what the other goblin told me too," he said.

The goblin ignored him and continued working at his desk.

Harry awkwardly left that counter and started walking towards Griphook. Harry was three-quarters of the way there before he turned to the goblin at the nearest desk. "Excuse me," Harry said.

"You'll be wanting withdrawals," the goblin responded. "Go see Griphook." Same words, same intonation, same gesture to the front of the room.

Harry had always thought most goblins looked the same, but this was just ridiculous. "What's your name?" Harry asked.

No response from the goblin.

"Did you know your hair's on fire?"

No response.

"My name is Bellatrix Lestrange and I'm here to steal all of your Lucky Charms."

No response.

"OI! YOU! PEABRAIN! I AM HARRY JAMES POTTER, AND I DEMAND YOUR ATTENTION!"  
Harry looked around rather guiltily after this outburst, but nobody seemed to be paying him any attention. In fact, not even the goblin that Harry had just yelled at paid Harry any mind. The goblin just continued writing on the parchment in front of him.

This lack of a response unnerved Harry quite a bit.

Deciding he was unlikely to get any reaction from the goblins at their desks, Harry decided to follow the repeated instruction and go see Griphook.

"I'd like to withdraw some money," Harry said after reaching Griphook.

The background darkened as a familiar blue screen appeared in front of Harry. As usual, Harry felt weightless but couldn't actually move.

_Quest complete: Withdraw money from Gringotts_  
_Item acquired: 500 G_

Brief fanfare played in the background, though Harry wasn't impressed.

"Okay," he said to get rid of the screen.

The screen obligingly disappeared and Harry was back at Gringotts, standing in front of Griphook's desk. Instead of Griphook there was a fence made of interlocked metal slats connected at pivot points which completely contained Griphook's desk. Attached to the inside of the fence was a mahogany sign reading "out to lunch" in gold embossing.

Harry tapped the fence. It gave off the soft clattering noise you'd expect such a fence to make upon being tapped.

Harry turned and left Gringotts without talking to anybody else.


	4. Ollivander's Fine Wands

**Author's Note:**  
In my mind, the Hogwarts RPG is a cross between the Elder Scrolls series and Chrono Trigger.  
The goblins' bad programming is the equivalent of the NPCs with one line each in the old Nintendo Entertainment System RPGs. "Welcome to Corneria!"

The fact that you guys are telling me "the game was programmed poorly", and not "the goblins were written poorly" tells me that that chapter conveyed exactly what I wanted it to. ;)

* * *

Hagrid was waiting for Harry outside of Gringotts.

"So you got yer money!" Hagrid said, slapping Harry on the back. "Good job, Harry! Next stop is Ollivander's! Can't be castin' spells without yer wand, now can ya?"

"Aren't you coming with me?" Harry asked.

Hagrid laughed. "No, no," he said. "Best for you to explore Diagon Alley on your own."

The first time Harry had gone to Diagon Alley, Hagrid had taken him everywhere. This time around, it seemed that Hagrid was leaving him to his own devices. Harry didn't exactly mind, but it was another oddity that he couldn't explain.

Harry took off down the bustling streets, heading to Ollivander's fine wands.

Harry stepped inside, looking at the boxes that took up all the shelf- and wall-space around the room. "Ah, Mister Potter," a voice said. "I thought I'd be seeing you soon."

Behind the counter stood old man Ollivander. In front of him, lying on the counter, were three wands that appeared identical. Harry stepped up to the counter, halfway expecting the blue screen to appear again. To his mild surprise, nothing happened.

"I'm here to pick up my wand," Harry said. "Holly wood with a phoenix feather core. Although if you have one made with elder wood and a thestral feather, I'll take that one as well."

Mr. Ollivander replied "It's not the wizard that chooses the wand, but the wand that chooses the wizard."

"Yes," Harry said, "and I'm positive that the wand that chooses me will be holly and phoenix feather."

"We shall see," said Mr. Ollivander. "Pick up any of the three wands in front of you and give it a swish."

Harry examined the three wands. None of them looked any different from the others. He picked up the first one and gave it a swish. Nothing happened.

"Place it down and try another," Mr. Ollivander instructed.

Harry put the wand down and picked up the second one. Again, nothing happened.

"Ah, it must be the third one, then." Mr. Ollivander said.

"I'm telling you, it's not going to be any of these," Harry said.

"Regardless, pick up the third wand and give it a swish."

Harry sighed and did so, being utterly unsurprised when nothing happened.

"Curious", Mr. Ollivander said. "One of those three should have given you a reaction. Perhaps if we tried... yes, why not. Here, try this one."  
Mr. Ollivander held out an unfamiliar pale brown wand to Harry. Harry took it and felt a cool sensation spread across his arm. Harry moved his arm in an arc through the air and silver sparks shot out of the tip of the wand.

_Quest complete: Acquire wand from Mr. Ollivander_  
_Magic system unlocked!_

Harry squawked in outrage.  
"Hey!" he shouted at Mr. Ollivander. "This isn't my wand! My wand is made from holly and phoenix feather!"

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is" Mr. Ollivander responded. "That wand chose you, and the magic inside you responded. I'm sorry it isn't what you were expecting, but this wand is remarkable nonetheless."

"I don't care how remarkable it is, it isn't mine!"

"Twelve and a half inches," Mr. Ollivander continued, as if he hadn't heard Harry. "Pine, with a core made from the hair of a japanese nature spirit. But then, I suppose we shouldn't be surprised given your ancestry."

Harry was going to continue to rant when Mr. Ollivander's words hit him. "What do you mean, 'my ancestry'?" he asked.

"I thought you knew. Your father was a carrier of the Imperial Bloodline. That's how he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on the night of the attack on your family."

Harry was stunned. More changes to what he thought he knew. Even Harry's history had changed, though he had no idea how or why.

"After the Dark One killed your mother," Mr. Ollivander continued, "your father tapped into great and terrible powers to save you. Unfortunately, his body could not handle the strain and he passed away shortly thereafter."

"He... died protecting me? And he killed Voldemort in the process?"

Mr. Ollivander nodded.

Harry took a minute to digest what he had been told. His father was a hero.  
Harry realized he was crying. He rubbed his eyes dry with his shirt.

Turning away from Mr. Ollivander, Harry waved his new wand around. He did this partly to get a feel for the wand, and partly as a distraction from his uncomfortable emotions. Harry pointed the wand at one of the boxes and...

um...

Harry put down the wand.  
He knew what spell he wanted. The spell's name was wingardium leviosa. It was a levitation spell, designed to lift an object into the air.  
So why couldn't Harry remember how to cast it?

Harry remembered learning the spell in his first year at Hogwarts. He remembered Hermione getting it perfectly right on the first try and Ron getting upset by that. He remembered Ron casting it on a troll's club, indirectly knocking the troll out. But for some reason, Harry couldn't remember the spell itself.

Harry racked his brains to remember how to cast the spell, but after a long period of concentration Harry eventually had to accept that it was beyond him for the moment.  
Harry was concerned by this, but his concern eventually gave way to boredom and Harry left the store.


	5. Talking with Hagrid

**Author's Notes:**  
Some of you have mentioned that Harry's confusion is starting to wear thin. I've got an event coming up next chapter that should take care of that. (Mua ha haaa...)

* * *

As usual, Hagrid was waiting outside of the store for Harry. "Got 'yer wand, did yeh? Good fer you!"

Harry responded, "Fat lot of good it does me. I can't cast any spells with it."

"Well of course you can't! You haven't learned any yet!"

"No, I mean I can't cast any of the spells that I've already learned."

"Been reading ahead, have yeh? Well, it's best to not learn spells outside of class. Hogwarts teachers are there so you don't mess up and break anything."

Harry sighed. "No, Hagrid. Remember when I told you that I've been here before? That I've had an entire lifetime at Hogwarts? That was all real, and I learned spells there for six years. Only now, I can't cast them! And that's not the only thing that's different. The last time around, I had a wand made of holly and phoenix feather. It was made from Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes, and it was crucial to saving the wizarding world from Voldemort."

Hagrid's eyes got round as saucers and he drew back a bit from Harry.

"How'd you know about that?" he asked.

"What, Voldemort? He tried to kill me as a kid, failed, and died for his troubles. At least, that's what I'm pretty sure happened. Why, is that wrong too?"

"No, the bit about Dumbledore's phoenix!"

"I- ... was I not supposed to know about that?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's not exactly a secret," Hagrid replied, "it's just not something ye' want to spread around, is all. Dumbledore's got a pet phoenix, but they're listed as four-x rated creatures by the Ministry of Magic, so the Headmaster is determined to get rid of it from Hogwarts."

Harry squawked in outrage. "He can't do that! Fawkes saved my life once! It's as gentle as they come!"

Then Harry thought about it. Lots of things had changed since his new life started. Perhaps that had changed as well.

"...aren't they?" Harry asked.

"I just know that if you see Professor Forsett, it would be best not to mention any phoenixes around him. He's still upset that Dumbledore won't give his up."

"Go, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said under his breath. "But hey!" Harry exclaimed. "How could I have known about Fawkes unless my story were true?"

"I wouldn't rightly know about that," Hagrid answered.

Harry sighed and decided to change subjects. "Ollivander told me about my history," Harry said. "In this world, I'm not known as the boy who defeated Voldemort. Is that right? No more 'Boy Who Lived'?"

Hagrid responded, "Well you are a boy, and you did live, but I don't think I've ever heard somebody call you that."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was a small thing, but Harry had never liked that nickname.

"If anything," Hagrid continued, "I figured you'd want out of your father's shadow. You know, for defeating You-Know-Who."

Harry scoffed. "He can have all the fame and attention he wants; I don't want it. Fat lot of good it would do him," Harry added morosely, "being dead and all."

"Harry, you shouldn't talk like that. You know, if your father were here today he'd be as proud of you as I am."

"Thanks Hagrid. That helps a bit. And it's not like it was all bad. I mean, I'm still alive, right? And who knows how many people dad saved by taking Voldemort down?" Seeing Hagrid flich at the name, he hastily corrected himself. "Sorry, I mean You-Know-Who."

"That's the spirit, look on the bright side of things!"

A pause, and then Hagrid asked "Do you have anything else you wanted to ask about?"

Harry thought about this. "Nah, I'm good."

"Right, then! Now that you've got your wand and your money, you can explore Diagon Alley to your heart's content! Jes' find me when you're ready to leave and I'll take you home."

"You're not coming with me?" Harry asked.

Hagrid laughed. "No, no," he said. "Best for you to explore Diagon Alley on your own."

Harry experienced a strange sinking sensation. Hagrid's words were exactly the same as they had been last time he asked that question.

Harry asked again in a dull monotone, "You're not coming with me?"

Hagrid laughed. "No, no," he said. "Best for you to explore Diagon Alley on your own."

Harry started tearing up. "STOP SAYING THAT!" he yelled at Hagrid. "Stop it! Stop it, just stop it!"

Harry hadn't even realized he was pummeling Hagrid until Hagrid enveloped him in a restraining hug. His punches weren't doing Hagrid any harm, and Harry eventually stopped. By this time, Harry was sobbing.

After several minutes of this, Harry eventually stopped crying. Hagrid let go of Harry. "You feeling better?"

Harry shook his head.

"Is there anything I could do to help?"

"I know it sounds stupid, but could you come with me?"

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry Harry, but I can't. I just can't."

Harry nodded sadly and wandered into the crowd of people.


	6. Madame Malkin's Robe Shop

Harry stood in front of Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Somebody had placed a set of magically-animated mannequins behind the store window, facing Diagon Alley. They posed and winked, showing off their robes for the crowds who barely paid them any attention.

Harry entered the store. Unlike the other stores he had entered that day, there was nobody immediately visible. In front of him was an empty counter, and off to the side was an open dressing room.

Harry asked, "Hello? Is anybody here?"

Nobody responded.

Harry walked over to the dressing room. A thick velvet curtain hung bunched up at one side of the entrance. The far wall contained a full-size mirror. Harry was about to leave when something about the mirror caught his attention. He stepped closer to give it a full inspection. As he did, a familiar blue screen appeared.

_Avatar Choices:_

_Unlocked Avatars:_  
_Harry Potter (Muggle)_  
_Harry Potter (Wizard)_  
_Lord Voldemort (NEW!)_  
_Hermione Granger (Witch) (NEW!)_  
_Ron Weasley (Wizard) (NEW!)_  
_Fred Weasley (NEW!)_  
_George Weasley (NEW!)_  
_Quirinus Quirrel (NEW!)_

_[Next Page] [Cancel]_

Harry looked at the list. "Avatar choices"? What could that mean? He read the list, and as he did a name caught his attention.

Harry murmured to himself, "Lord Voldemort?"

The blue screen disappeared. Lord Voldemort appeared in front of Harry, shocked to see him. Harry was equally shocked, but didn't let his surprise get the better of him. Harry whipped out his wand, but it looked like Voldemort had the same idea. Harry threw himself sideways to avoid whatever spell Voldemort was planning-

...and crashed into the wall of the booth. In his haste to act, Harry had forgotten where he was.

As he climbed to his feet, he noticed that Lord Voldemort was doing the same.

Experimentally, Harry moved an arm. Voldemort did the same.

Harry almost laughed. It was a simple enchantment, nothing more. The mirror was obviously bewitched to change the reflection of the user. A nasty practical joke, but nothing more. Harry let out a low chuckle.

And froze. Harry's voice had changed. Harry examined the mirror again. He reached out to touch the mirror and realized that his pale hand looked exactly like the hand in the reflection.

He looked at his arm. He was dressed in ragged black robes, exactly like the ones his reflection was wearing.

His reflection.

Oh God, he had somehow become Lord Voldemort.

Harry started laughing. It was not a happy laugh. This was the laughter of a man losing his tenuous grip on reality, his psyche cracking under some terrible strain. That in itself would be enough to concern any listeners, but Voldemort's voice made the laughter seem much more villainous than it actually was.

These thoughts only made Harry laugh harder. He stumbled out the door to Diagon Alley.

"Hah hah hah haaaa!" Harry laughed in Voldemort's low voice. "Fear me, world! I am the dark lord Voldemuggle, and I am here to eat your babies! Ah, ha-ha-ha-ha haaaah!"

"Hey there, Harry," Hagrid asked. "Are you ready to go?"

Harry froze and his jaw dropped.

"Sure," he finally said weakly, "let me just... change my outfit."


	7. Choose an Avatar & The Sorting Hat

Harry went back to the changing room and selected "Harry Potter (Wizard)." Immediately he was dressed in his school robes.

Hm.

Judging from Hagrid's reaction, nobody would notice if he looked like somebody else. Not even taking on Lord Voldemort's appearance had elicited a reaction from Hagrid. Harry started paging through the avatar list. Was there anybody he wanted to look like?

Harry briefly lingered on Cedric Diggory's name. Did he want to "dress up" as Cedric? The student was handsome enough to interest Cho Chang. Perhaps Harry would enjoy being good-looking, even if nobody else could tell.

Then Harry noticed the entry just below that: "Cedric Diggory (corpse)". Harry involuntarily recalled the sight of Cedric's corpse hitting the ground, Voldemort's cruel voice echoing "kill the spare". Dressing up as Cedric, Harry decided, would just be in poor taste. That went double for whoever decided to include a dead-but-living Cedric Diggory in the avatar listing.

_It has to have been somebody's poor idea of a joke,_ Harry thought to himself. _Honestly, who would even be interested in an undead version of that guy?_

Shaking his head at the poor taste of some people, Harry kept paging through the list.

"Next. Next. Next."

Harry eventually got to the end of the list. None of the options he saw really interested him.

_Oh, well. Wizarding Harry is as good as anything, I suppose._

"Cancel."

Harry stepped outside again.

"Hey there, Harry," Hagrid said, exactly the same as he did before. "Are you ready to go?"

Harry responded, "Yeah, Hagrid. Let's go."

Everything faded to black. White text appeared over a black backdrop, then scrolled up and disappeared.

* * *

_And so, Harry caught the Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 and 3/4's and left the muggle world far behind._

* * *

Reality faded in as it usually did following such narrations, and Harry looked around to figure out where he was.

He didn't have to look far. He and several other children were following Professor McGonagall to the front of the Great Hall. Unless Harry was mistaken, this was the Sorting Ceremony. Harry sighed. He had been looking forward to meeting his friends onboard the Hogwarts Express, before they arrived at school.

_Still, I suppose I didn't miss too much,_ he thought to himself. _And it's not like we'll be in separate houses, anyways. I'll probably see them again in a few minutes._

Still, Harry was a bit disappointed.

Harry waited at the front of the Great Hall with the rest of the first-year students. He recognized most of the teachers; there were Professors Sprout and Flitwick. There was Snape with his greasy hair and hook-nose. Dumbledore was there too, but he wasn't sitting in his usual Headmaster's spot. In his place was a middle-age man wearing tweed formal robes. The man had short hair and a rather large bald spot. Also at the staff table was a young woman, apparently in her early twenties. Unlike all the other people at the table, she dressed more like a muggle than a wizard. She wore black skintight fabric with a pink cloth tied off to drape over her torso and waist as well as red baggy armwarmers. She had green hair and long green webbed ears that stuck straight out to either side of her head. She was animatedly talking to the diminuitive Professor Flitwick, who was smiling and engaged in conversation with her.

_This woman,_ Harry concluded, _must be the Professor Stoat that Hagrid told me about earlier._

The man in the tweed robes stood up. "Greetings everyone, and welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I am Professor Forsett, and I am the Headmaster here at Hogwarts. To the first-years I say welcome, and may you have an enjoyable seven years in which to learn and grow.

"Now, there are a few things to address before the Sorting Ceremony commences. First I would like to remind everybody that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits. Additionally, use of combat spells outside of their designated classrooms is strictly prohibited. Finally, there have been some unfortunate lapses in security in the past, so I must remind _everybody_ here that any creature _not_ on the approved familiars list must be screened by the appropriate Ministry of Magic process **before** it is brought into Hogwarts. Failure to do so could lead to severe consequences, up to and including permanent removal from Hogwarts."

A dull murmur started up as the students discussed this with each other.

"Not to worry, though. If you brought an owl, rat, or frog as indicated by the letter, you should be perfectly fine. If there is any uncertainty, you may ask your Head of House about it later. Now! Let the Sorting commence!"

Professor Forsett sat down as Professor Mcgonagall stood up and called students to the Sorting Hat, one by one.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

Just for fun, Harry amused himself by trying to remember which house each student would be called to before the Sorting Hat made its decision.

"Hufflepuff!"

He managed to remember over half the students before they were sorted, and he recognized most of the rest once the Hat sorted them, but some of the students had names he didn't recognize at all. Apparently he'd never interacted with Mandy Brocklehurst (Ravenclaw) or Stephen Cornfoot (also Ravenclaw) or Tracey Davis (Slytherin). The other students waiting for their turn under the hat were nervous, but Harry was just bored.

_Although,_ a thought struck Harry, _the world has been pretty weird recently. What if the Sorting Hat refuses to sort me again? And I just sit there with the Sorting Hat on my head forever, until Professor McGonagall says 'there's obviously been some mistake, you'll have to leave Hogwarts at once.'_

Okay, now Harry was nervous.

Oddly enough, although Harry didn't realize it, the fears that went through his head then were almost exactly the same as the fears he experienced the first time he was Sorted.

Finally, after Perks, Sally-anne (Unknown, Harry had been lost in thought), Harry's name was called.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry listened for the murmured "Did she say 'Harry Potter'" that inevitably made its way around the audience, but to his relief there was no more or less chatter for him than there had been for any of the other students.

It would be something of a relief, but Harry was still nervous about the impending ordeal. His hands felt clammy and he felt butterflies in his stomach as he walked up to the Sorting Hat.

He wasn't prepared for what happened next.

As he stepped in front of the Sorting Hat, a window appeared. Everything but the hat on the stool and the window faded to black. The window wrote text on the screen at the exact speed the Sorting Hat spoke it.

* * *

_You're approached by a frenzied classmate who yells "I'm going to cast metaphilofrogistan on you!" You:_  
_A: Say "Really? What does that do?"_  
_B: Say "Calm down, let's talk this over."_  
_C: Draw your wand to defend yourself._  
_D: Look forward to defeating this obvious lunatic._

* * *

Harry looked at the text on the screen. He looked at the hat on the stool.  
"I am dying," Harry said, "and these are the hallucinations of my oxygen-starved brain."  
Harry looked at the text again, sighed, and answered it.  
"B. 'Let's talk this over.'"

"Hmmm. Interesting," the hat said before continuing with the text.

* * *

_What job would you like when you graduate from Hogwarts?_  
_A) Researcher_  
_B) Minister for Magic_  
_C) Auror_  
_D) Bartender_

* * *

Harry thought about this. Before his second life, Harry had plans to be an Auror. Now that the world had gone crazy on him, Harry just wanted a nice, calm, peaceful existence.  
"D. Bartender."  
"I see," said the hat thoughtfully.

* * *

_A rare and probably dangerous monster is wandering in the corridors. You:_  
_A) Attempt to drive it out of Hogwarts. _  
_B) Stick around to learn more about it._  
_C) Walk away. It's not your problem._  
_D) Run to inform a teacher._

* * *

Harry chuckled as he remembered the Troll that Quirrel had let into the castle.  
"A. Drive it out."  
"Oh, very good," said the hat.

* * *

_Which magical creature would you most like to encounter:_  
_A) A friendly magical creature._  
_B) A rare or poorly-understood magical creature, to learn more about it._  
_C) A dangerous magical creature, to face it in combat._  
_D) An obedient magical creature, to do your bidding._

* * *

Harry thought about the creatures he could remember facing: Centaurs, Goblins, a Basilisk, werewolf... they had all tried to kill him at some point. Why couldn't Harry ever meet a nice, friendly horribly threatening monster?  
"A."

"Hmmm. Yes, I see," said the hat.

* * *

_You enter your intimidating teacher's private room when nobody is looking and look around for..._  
_A) Advanced reading material._  
_B) Incriminating evidence._  
_C) The teacher. Face your fears._  
_D) A friend of yours who is always getting herself lost._

* * *

Harry thought of getting caught looking through Snape's private stash of potion ingredients. None of the options fit the scenario, but the closest one would probably be "looking for incriminating evidence".  
"B."

"Very well, it seems that you would do best in..." the window disappeared and the Great Hall returned, "**Hufflepuff!**"

* * *

**Author's notes:**  
For everybody telling me that my chapters need to be longer: I'm sorry but I can't promise anything. As I've stated in my profile, I suffer from anxiety issues. The best way for me to get anything done is to split it up into small pieces. The more I try to accomplish at once, the more likely it is that I'll get overwhelmed and not do anything. Also, I'm also something of an anti-perfectionist. I like to get everything done in one run, even if it's not perfect. Smaller chapters work better for this.

When I imagine Professor Stoat, the mental image I have is that of a minor character from an anime I watched when I was younger. The first person to correctly identify the anime and the character gets a walk-on cameo or the answer to any question I can answer. If nobody gets it by the end of Harry's first school year, I'll just tell you.

Also, there were two more questions I had in mind for the quiz (If you've played Morrowind or Fallout 3, you know what my inspiration was for this), but I wound up not using them. I think I was going to use one as a tiebreaker, in case Harry preferred two or more houses equally. It looks like that wasn't necessary.

The questions were:

What would be the worst thing for somebody else to call you?  
Ordinary  
Ignorant  
Cowardly  
Selfish

How would you most prefer to be described?  
Smart  
Cunning  
Loyal  
Brave

If you can't figure out which answers would correspond to which houses... well, let's just say you shouldn't be sorted into Ravenclaw. =P


	8. Discontinuity

The window disappeared and Harry was left standing in front of the Sorting Hat. Harry shouted "What? I'm not not supposed to be in Hufflepuff!"  
He turned to Professor McGonagall and said, "This has to be some sort of mistake."

Professor McGonagall replied, "The Sorting Hat has made its decision. Please take your seat at the Hufflepuff table."

Harry said, "No, you don't understand. I was supposed to be sorted into Gryffindor!"

Harry experienced a sense of unreality as McGonagall spoke again. "The Sorting Hat has made its decision," she said, repeating herself exactly. "Please take your seat at the Hufflepuff table."

Harry stared at her. "Ugh," he finally said, "fine." Harry trudged to the Hufflepuff table. A young boy sitting at the table shouted his name. "Harry! Hey Harry!"  
Harry didn't recognize the boy, but as he approached the table the boy quickly made an opening for Harry.

There didn't seem to be any other spots open at the table, so Harry took the offered seat.  
"Hah!" the boy shouted exultantly. "I told you you'd be in Hufflepuff, didn't I?"

Harry was about to correct the stranger's mistake when the scene faded to black before his eyes.

* * *

The next scene opened inside a large train station filled with throngs of people coming and going their own directions. A stylized font appeared in white letters in the foreground, reading "King's Cross Station". After a second the words faded away with a sparkle, and Harry's viewpoint changed dramatically. It zoomed around, examining the interior walls and stairs, flying past trains and train tracks, and breezing past the crowds before finally shooting into the back of a scrawny black-haired figure dressed in wizard's robes.

Harry yelped and threw his hands in front of his face.

After a second Harry realized he hadn't collided with anything, so he slowly lowered his hands.

Harry had his body back, but there was no sign of the person he had almost crashed into. Perhaps he had scurried off before Harry collided with him? Yes, that seemed reasonable.

Harry looked around. Although he had seen large crowds of people just seconds ago while on his flyby, the station was now almost completely deserted. He was standing between Platforms 3 and 4, and the only people to be seen were a pair of adults in wizarding robes several platforms away. Standing next to them was a young boy dressed in the same fashion, and beyond them was a push-cart full of random objects.  
Harry had a good view of the Station and, aside from those three people, there wasn't a single person to be seen in any direction.

Harry started to walk towards the rather obvious wizards when a window popped up in front of his face. Harry yelped and jerked backwards, almost falling over.

The message read:  
_Hint: Check your inventory from the menu to read your Hogwarts acceptance letter!_

Harry stopped. "Check your inventory..." he said, reading the message, which shortly disappeared.

"But how do I do that?" he asked.

There was no response.

Harry patted his robes, as if maybe they were his "inventory", but there was nothing in the robes except for Harry James Potter.

"How do I check my inventory?" Harry asked again, hoping for some sort of response.

Unfortunately, nobody responded.

With a sigh, Harry walked forwards toward the wizards again. The sound of Harry's footsteps echoed unnervingly as he walked. The boy had left while Harry had been distracted, and now it was just the two adult wizards who stood there. Harry stopped walking and observed them. He couldn't see their features from behind, but they didn't appear to be doing anything.

_What are they waiting for?_ Harry wondered.

_Come to think of it, what am _I_ doing here?_

Now that Harry wasn't being dragged from one reality to another, he realized that he wasn't sure what he was doing here or why.  
Or even where "here" was.

Harry sat down on a nearby bench and tried to puzzle it out.

He knew where he was... and then again he _didn't_ know where he was.

On one hand, this looked like King's Cross Station. The wizarding couple were standing where Platform Nine and Three Quarters should be, and the boy he'd seen had probably gone through when Harry hadn't been looking.

On the other hand, King's Cross should have been packed with people at this time of day. Instead, it appeared to be almost completely abandoned.

Harry pondered on this.

_Okay, so I'm in a place that may or may not be King's Cross Station. I went to Diagon Alley, got my equipment (sort of), then arrived in Hogwarts without taking the Hogwarts Express._

_Is this somehow supposed to make up for that? Is that why I'm the only person here? Because you have to arrive at Hogwarts by train, and I missed that, so now they're trying to fix the problem?_

That made some sense, but Harry wasn't convinced.

Harry looked around. If this really was King's Cross he knew where the exits were. He could get out now and try to leave all this insanity behind him. He could skip going to Hogwarts and look for a place where people didn't repeat themselves like they were Imperio'd. A place where text windows wouldn't randomly pop up in front of him. A place where things were nice and normal and most importantly _sane_.

Then again, could he really leave Hogwarts? It might be different from how he remembered it, but Hogwarts had been a very important part of his life for six years. He had taken classes there, made lifelong friends there, and overcome challenges there. It was where he had grown up, and where he had become both a wizard and a man.

Could he really leave it all behind?

_Should_ he leave it all behind?

Harry looked around him. He looked at the eerily abandoned train station. He looked at the space between Platforms 9 and 10 and the wizarding couple that stood in front of it. He looked at the empty stairs and walkways in King's Cross Station.

Harry stood up. He had made his decision.

* * *

**Author's Note**:

That contest I mentioned last chapter? It lasted a whole 3 days before somebody correctly identified the character. I guess it wasn't as obscure as I had thought. :P

The character was Juri from Yu Yu Hakusho.

Zex, I have your cameo planned but it might be a bit before I can work it in. You'll know it when you see it.


	9. King's Cross Station

Harry stood up and walked away from Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The platform and the wizarding couple soon passed out of his sight.

After Harry walked past several platforms, he realized that he hadn't passed a single train. There were no people around, but Harry realized that there weren't any trains in the station either. If it was the middle of the night, that _might_ have explained the emptiness, but judging by the sunlight it was the middle of the _day_.

It was the middle of the day, the train station was abandoned, and there didn't appear to be a single train running.

Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He drew his robes tighter around himself and started walking faster.

There were a few ways Harry could leave the train station. One way was for him to follow the train tracks. In one direction, the tracks were cloaked in shadow as the rails went under the station itself. In the other direction the tracks were cast in sunlight as they exited the station to continue their routes.

The underpass was too dark. There wouldn't be any place for Harry to walk safely, so he would have to drop into the depression that held the train tracks to follow them. If a train were to arrive, Harry would be trapped in a tunnel with a very large, very heavy object travelling towards him at high speed.

Harry didn't want to think about what would happen to him if that occurred.

The train tracks in the other direction exited out into the open. Harry could see scenery outside of the station in that direction, but he hesitated to go that way. If he did, he would have to pass by the figures he had seen earlier at Platform 9 & 3/4.

Harry didn't want to go in that direction if he could help it.

So instead, Harry walked to a set of stairs that led to a footpath overhead. Once he got to the footpath he could head to the main station, figure out which way the closest exit was, and get the hell out of there.

As Harry reached the stairs, the floor suddenly slipped underneath him.

Harry stomped his foot down to catch himself. He stood less than one pace away from the stairs that would take him where he wanted to go.

Harry waited a few seconds, then tried walking forward again. Harry felt the ground move underneath him as if he was walking forward, but everything around him stayed in exactly the same place. He tried running, but that didn't get him anywhere either.

Harry stopped running. He made a note of the section of floor that slipped underneath him. He backed up to get some space. Harry kicked into a sprint and leaped over the slippery section of floor, reaching forward with all his might.

Though he was positive he had cleared the offending section, Harry's feet shot out from underneath him. He landed on the flat floor on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

His outstretched hands landed just short of the first stair.

Harry scrabbled on his hands and feet to get enough friction to push through the offending barrier. It didn't work.

Harry flopped back onto the ground. Eventually he got up and brushed himself off. He looked around to see if anybody had noticed his behavior, but fortunately for Harry's ego the station remained abandoned.

Harry had once read a story about a trick doorway that would let you _in_ but not _out_. It had been a fictional tale, but perhaps this was the same sort of enchantment. Now how had the protagonist solved that riddle? Oh, yes.

Harry turned around so that his back was to the staircase. He then walked backwards towards the stairs. For a second he thought he had solved it and this would let him through, but then he realized that while the floor felt like it was moving underneath him, the actual staircase wasn't getting any closer. Harry stopped walking backwards, as it was very disorienting.

Harry turned to face the stairs. He walked as close as he could and examined them. There were metal guardrails on both side which followed the stairs all the way to the top. There was enough room to walk a circular path completely around the landing, which Harry did. He tentatively touched the guard rails as he walked, but nothing prevented him from doing so.

An idea formed in Harry's mind.

Something obviously didn't want him to walk up those stairs, but what if he didn't walk up the stairs, exactly?

Harry stood at the side of the stairs. He saw a metal ledge protruding from the bottom of the guard rail which followed the stairs all the way to the top.

Perfect.

Harry looked around, double-checking to ensure nobody was watching him. The station remained empty, but even with nobody there he was still paranoid he would get in trouble for what he was about to do.

Harry stepped onto the ledge, grabbing the top of the guard rail to balance himself. He had to stretch to make it, but the guard rail was within his grasp.

Moving in a shuffling fashion, Harry slowly moved up the outside of the staircase. The guard rail seemed to hold his weight, but there was a slight wobble that Harry didn't feel comfortable with. Slowly but surely, Harry crab-walked to the top of the stairs.

Harry made the mistake of looking down and felt a kick in his stomach when he saw how far up he was. He quickly lifted his head up and clenched his hands around the guard rail to make sure he didn't fall.

By the time he arrived at the top, his arms and legs were sore from holding up his weight and he was shaking from the adrenaline.

The guard rail connected to the upper level station wall at a right angle. Harry shifted his weight to balance himself between the perpendicular walls. He grabbed the top of the station wall, hoisted himself over it, and-

Harry's vision and hearing exploded in white noise and static. It only lasted for a split-second, and when it ended Harry felt his butt hit a cold floor with a painful smack. He had landed exactly where he had planned to with his back to the wall, but now there were large crowds of people walking to and fro. The air was full of the noise of people walking and talking and the occasional train getting ready to leave.

Harry laughed for joy.

_Finally,_ he thought, _something's going my way._


	10. Conflict and Decisions

Once Harry made his way out of the King's Cross Station he meditated on where he should go next. Taxis constantly stopped at the King's Cross Station entrance, dropping off passengers and picking them up. If Harry wanted to go somewhere, he could just catch one there. The only question was, where did Harry want to go?

The Dursleys lived in Surrey, about 30 miles away. Sirius' old house, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, was only a few miles away from King's Cross. Harry decided to head there first. Even if he couldn't make it past the fidelius charm, there had to be some way to communicate with the wizards living inside.

Harry hailed a taxi to take him to Sirius' residence. It took several tries with his child body, but eventually he managed to grab a taxi cab driver's attention by jumping up and down and waving his arms in the air.

Unfortunately, the cab driver had never heard of Grimmauld Place.

Shortly thereafter the cab driver learned that Harry didn't have any money on him and Harry was unceremoniously evicted from the cab.

Harry tried walking to Grimmauld Place, but none of the streets he followed took him where he wanted to go. Harry even stopped in a few corner shops to see if anybody could point him in the right direction.

Nobody could help him, and some of the people he asked gave him some very strange looks.

With no better plans, Harry started wandering the streets of London until he could find something familiar or useful.

Harry walked down a street that looked like it connected to the street one block over, but actually ran into a dead-end. It was not the first time that day he made that mistake, but as he turned around to retrace his steps, he saw a teenager approaching him.

"Lose your way?"

Something about the teenager set alarm bells ringing in Harry's head. Harry fingered his wand, even though he knew he would be unable to cast any spells to defend himself.

"Yes. I'm a bit lost," Harry said. "I'm looking for Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Do you know where that is?"

The teenager ignored Harry's question and continued to close the distance between them.

"What's that you're wearing?" he asked. "Think you're some kind of priest?"

Up until that point, Harry had completely forgotten he was still wearing his school robes. The funny looks from earlier made more sense now.

"No, I just got back from school," Harry replied.

The teenager pulled a large knife out of his back pocket.

"Well, you picked the wrong place to get lost," he said. "This is my turf, and I don't take kindly to trash like you squatting here."

"I just want to go home."

"Yeah," the teen said, "maybe you'll go home in a body bag. Maybe the police'll find your body. Or maybe," he said, extending the knife straight at Harry, "you'll just give me everything you've got."

Harry had been afraid, but now anger flared up inside of him. Ever since his first encounter with the altered reality, nothing had made any sense. He had been bewildered, frightened, and left feeling like he had had no control over the life around him.

And now this arrogant punk wanted to mug him?

No. Harry had enough of being pushed around. It didn't matter that Harry had nothing of value. It didn't matter that Harry was now in a very dangerous situation. All that mattered was that Harry _refused_ to be pushed around any more.

Harry glared at the teenager, adjusted his body language to be as intimidating as an eleven year old boy could possibly be, and said, "Piss off."

The teenager didn't like that at all. As soon as the words left Harry's mouth the teenager swung his blade at Harry. Acting on reflex, Harry waved his wand and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

A bolt of red light burst from Harry's wand and hit the teenager. The teenager was knocked backwards, the knife flying out of his hand and landing on the ground behind Harry.

Harry stared wide-eyed at his wand, stunned by his own actions. He had just cast a spell! Harry laughed before realizing that the teenager wasn't as stunned by this turn of events as Harry was. In fact, the youth was launching himself at Harry again!

Harry cast a quick stunning spell. The teenager collapsed to the ground, his forward momentum nullified.

Harry laughed with joy for a long time after that, casting spell after spell for the sheer joy of it. _Wingardium Leviosa_ on a nearby rock to levitate it. _Finite_ to cancel the spell. A summoner to bring the rock to him, then a banisher to knock it away.

Harry giggled giddily.

Harry looked at the prone figure on the ground. Now what was that spell to create ropes? Oh yes.  
"Incarcerous!"  
Thick looking ropes appeared out of nowhere to bind the stranger.  
"Aguamenti!"  
A jet of water hit the bound teen, waking him. He sputtered and coughed.

Harry asked, "Now then, do I have your attention?"

The teenager moved to attack Harry, but the ropes prevented him from doing much more than bunny-hopping or falling over. He thrashed to get free, but the bonds held tight.

"Argh! You let me go! I'll," and here the youth spewed forth language that was both offensive and anatomically unlikely.  
Harry interrupted, "Silencio!"

The youth continued yelling silent profanities. When he realized that he couldn't make any noise he doubled his efforts and turned quite red in the face.

"You threatened me with a knife," Harry said. "You could have killed me, and I don't think you would have cared too much if you had."  
Harry picked up the knife. "This knife, in fact."  
Harry placed the tip of the knife just under the thug's chin.  
"So tell me," Harry said quietly, "what do you think I should do with you?"

The teen paled as he realized he was now at the mercy of the very person he'd tried to mug just minutes before.

"You're just lucky I'm a better person than you," Harry said. "_Stupefy_."  
The youth slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Harry took stock of his situation. Now that Harry could cast spells again, what did he want to do?

Two hours later Harry was checked into a very expensive five-star hotel under the name of Ludo Bagman, courtesy of a few well-placed confundus charms.


	11. Necessities

It turns out that confundus charms have their limits.

For example, if you used one to get a room at an expensive hotel that you hadn't, technically, paid for, then employees will eventually show up demanding that you either pay or leave.

And even if you continually confundus them, the system that keeps track of guests and payments will still say that you haven't paid for your room and will keep sending people up.

Harry did not know about the system.

What's more, if you spend enough time in an unpaid room and show no intention of leaving, the system is then authorized to send police officers to escort you off the premises.

Harry didn't know about that either, right up until the police officers showed up and suddenly he did.

This was why, a week and a half later, Harry Potter had left his former hotel room and was now trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the two unconscious police officers he had left there.

Okay, so he panicked.

* * *

While the hotel had been a nice vacation, it wasn't a permanent solution. Harry needed to find some way to make money for food and shelter.

_Okay, think. I can't keep confunding everybody I meet. I need food and shelter, and both of those require money. I don't know of any jobs that would be willing to hire an 11-year-old boy, either._

_Hmmm._

As Harry walked, he saw a middle-aged man on the sidewalk playing a battered saxophone. The man had long, scraggly grey hair and a weatherbeaten face. Next to him was an open instrument case. Harry stopped to listen to the music. A passerby dropped money into the man's case.

A thought came to Harry: maybe he could do something similar.

Harry stepped next to the man and conjured a bluebell flame onto his palm. He held it up proudly to the passing crowd (which ignored him completely), then made a fist with his hand and slowly opened his hand, showing it to be empty. He repeated his actions, slowly coming up with variations on his hand movements. Nobody noticed his actions, but Harry was intent on doing this until somebody _did_ notice.

Eventually Harry got bored playing with harmless fire, so he took to conjuring birds out of thin air. Several passersby turned to see where the birds had come from and saw Harry, conjuring more bluebell fire onto the back of his hand. Harry waved his hand about as it trailed wisps of blue flame harmlessly in the air after his hand. A few people clapped in appreciation for the pyrotechnics. Harry grinned and summoned more birds while waving his free hand about.

Unfortunately, that's where things went wrong. The birds flew through the flames and unexpectedly caught on fire, crying loudly as they flew outwards at the audience. Several people shrieked and ran away to avoid the flaming birds of death.

Harry was mortified.

The man playing the sax stopped and caught Harry's eye. "Hey man," the man said, "don't do that."

Harry quickly ran away, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

* * *

Harry spent the better part of the day wandering around downtown London. He almost despaired of finding something that he could do before finally spotting a store nestled between a korean hair salon and a video rental store.

_Jackpot!_ Harry thought to himself.

As Harry entered the store he saw a middle-aged man sitting behind a glass counter, facing sideways to Harry. The man was eating a bowl of microwavable noodles and watching a rugby game on a small television set on a ledge extending out from the wall. There was a door set into the wall behind him. To one side, Harry could see another section of the store which contained bicycles, engines, television sets, and all sorts of odds and ends, laid out against the walls and on tables scattered around the shop.

Harry approached the counter. "Excuse me!" he called.

The man turned and faced Harry, not bothering to keep the annoyance from his face. "Yeah? Whaddya want?"

"I want a job."

The man appraised Harry for a second before snorting and turning back to the game. "Beat it, kid," he said.

Harry stepped outside and grabbed a rock off the ground that was a little larger than his fist. He stepped back inside.

"Excuse me", Harry said loudly. "I can fix anything that you have broken. I can do it cheaply, quickly, and more efficiently than anything you've ever seen before. I can fix literally anything that is broken, in a fraction of the time it would normally take to fix. I want a job, and it's in your best interests to give me one."

The man had turned to face Harry again. "Are you still here?" he asked. "Beat it."

"Last chance," Harry said coolly.

The man turned his attention back to the television set.

Harry stepped forward and threw the rock through the glass case.

CRASH!

The glass exploded out of the case and shattered into dozens of smaller shards. The effect on the man was instantaneous: he bolted up out of the chair and yelled "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The man stepped to get around the case and physically stop Harry, but Harry just said "watch" and pointed his wand at the shattered glass.

"Reparo!" Harry yelled.

The glass jumped back in the case like a videotape being rewound. The seams disappeared, and a second later there was only smooth, unbroken glass inside the frame.

The man stopped, staring at the case in shock.

"I told you," Harry said grimly. "I can fix _anything_."

The man looked at Harry, then at the glass.

The man asked weakly, "Wh- When can you start?"

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks to reddit users onyxindigo and TheJoshwa for the ideas of "repair shop" and "street magician", respectively.


	12. Years Passed, Meet the Twerp

A/N: No, I have not abandoned the video game idea. Have some faith in me, guys. ;)

This chapter is dedicated to FF-StayGold, for requesting that I update soon.

* * *

Harry Potter spent the next several years rather uneventfully. He worked at the repair shop, saving money and exploring London. He eventually took on a second part-time job as a courier, moving papers from one company building to another.

Since he could just apparate where he wanted to go, he naturally excelled at this.

Harry had toyed with the idea of Apparating back to Hogwarts, but he found he didn't really want to. Here he understood the rules that governed reality, more or less. Physics and people behaved in a manner more or less what he was used to, and the only nasty surprise he got was when it turned out Marcia had really been engaged to Patrick's evil twin on the local soap opera.

It wasn't a perfect arrangement, and Harry still missed his old life from time to time, but he was content.

Time passed, and Harry Potter grew into a teenager. Then something happened that changed his life completely.

...again.

* * *

Walter pushed the floating television set into the repair shop and maneuvered it onto a table while Harry kept his wand pointed at it.

"Is the telly settled?" Harry asked.

Walter nodded and Harry cancelled the spell. The television set dropped a fraction of an inch and landed on the table with a thump.

"Thanks, Harry," Walter said. "I'd have moved it myself, but my lifting muscles just aren't what they used to be."

"Yeah, yeah. Anything to get out of doing the work yourself, huh?" Harry asked teasingly.

"Hey! I'll have you know, it's hard work keeping track of all the inventory here."

Harry laughed. "Oh yes, I've seen how you track inventory," he said. Harry waved his free hand to encompass the entire shop. "'It's over there' does _not_ count as a proper inventory system."

"Says you," Walter retorted.

"So are we done for the day?" Harry asked. "There's a store opening in Edinburgh I've been meaning to check out."

Walter hesitated. "Well, there is... _one_... small thing..."

Harry sighed. "All right, out with it."

"Well," Walter began shiftily, "it's just that I promised my sister I'd watch her boy this weekend, and I was hoping, if you weren't busy..."

Harry regarded Walter with a flat stare.

"Let me get this straight," Harry said. "You want me to watch your nephew for you?"

"Please?" Walter pleaded. "I'm no good with kids, and he's closer to your age anyways!"

"You know I only _look_ fifteen. In terms of life experience, I'm a full-grown adult."

"It would be doing me a huge favor. Please?"

Harry sighed. "Fine," he acceded. "But you're paying me double-time!"

Walter took on a shocked appearance. "What? Harry," he wheedled, "I'd love to, but it just isn't in the budget right now."

Harry snorted. "Nice try. I do all the work and my magic eats up most of the costs. Double-time, or you get to watch the kid yourself."

There was a knock at the door. Walter's eyes flickered to the door before he hastily said "Done!"

The door opened and a young boy walked through it. He appeared to be pre-teen, wearing thick coke-bottle glasses and sporting a bowl haircut. He carried a large cardboard box in his hands.

"Ah, well," Walter hurriedly explained, "Wensley, this is Harry Potter. Harry, Wensley. And I'm off to the pub to catch the football game. Take care, now. Bye!"

With that, Walter squeezed past Wensley and was out the door.

Harry ran to the door and shouted after him, "Double-time pay! Or I swear I start looking for a better job!"

Harry turned to greet Wensley, but he wasn't there. In the time it had taken Harry to yell at his employer, Wensley had walked in front of a television, set the box down, and pulled out a plastic object that trailed black cables.

Harry walked over to where Wensley was and said, "Hello Wensley, I'm Harry Potter. It looks like I'll be looking after you for a bit."

Harry waited for a response, but Wensley ignored him completely in favor of disconnecting some wires from the television and attaching his own cables.

"Can you tell me what you're doing?" Harry asked.

Wensley absently replied, "Setting up my Super Nintendo."

Harry wasn't sure what that meant, and wasn't sure if he should be allowing Wensley to fiddle with the television. If Wensley managed to break it, Harry wouldn't be able to fix it.

* * *

_It turned out that, despite Harry's original boast, his magic interacted poorly with muggle electronics. The first time Harry had tried to fix a television set, it caused a small explosion within the television set. Nobody had been hurt, but the television set had been permanently ruined._

_Walter would have fired Harry, but he had already gotten used to the magical repairs Harry could do and had no intention of going back to doing the work himself._

_In the end, Walter yelled a bit, grumbled some more, and took the cost of the television set out of Harry's pay._

* * *

If Harry had known Wensley better, perhaps he might have stepped in to stop whatever he was doing. As it was, however, Harry stood and awkwardly watched as the child fiddled with cables and power cords. A few minutes later, Wensley pulled a smaller plastic object out of the box, inserted it into a tab in the larger plastic object, and slid a purple switch upward. The television blinked and a swinging pendulum appeared on-screen with a distinctive "tick, tock" noise.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Chrono Trigger", Wensley responded.

Harry nodded, as if this phrase meant something to him. Wensley grabbed another plastic object connected by a cord to the "Super Nintendo", and sat on the ground in front of the television.

Harry froze. On the television screen appeared a very familiar window. Wensley yelled, "Augh! I hate this!" and threw the plastic object to the ground.

"What's wrong?" Harry cautiously asked.

"The stupid game deleted my saved game! Now I have to start all over from the beginning!"

Wensley threw the object down on the ground and stomped off. Harry stared at the screen in front of him. A stylized font read **"Battle Mode"**. Below that were two lines: one that read "ACTIVE" and one that read "WAIT". A white glove pointed to "ACTIVE".

Underneath that was a very familiar window. It had a shaded grey background and said, in white text, "Enemies will attack even if you're not ready!"

Harry stared at that for a second before he realized what those words meant. Harry yelled and threw himself out of the room. He ran as fast as he could, pulling his wand out at the same time. Harry kicked open the door to the back room, bolted past a startled Wensley (who had been cooking something in the microwave), ran up the staircase and threw himself into the room he rented from Walter, slamming the door shut behind him. Harry threw himself onto his bed, scooted so that his back was against the wall, and pointed his wand out in front of him.

His wand hand shook, and Harry's breathing came heavy. Harry frantically pointed his wand at several spots around him, just daring something to attack him.

Minutes passed, and nothing happened. Harry slowly started to relax.

Then there was a knock at the door. Harry yelled and pointed his wand at the door. It opened, but the only person behind it was Wensley. Harry kept his wand pointed at him, just in case.

Wensley stared at Harry. "What are you doing?" he asked.


End file.
